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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26782357">Out of Sight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrishWitch58/pseuds/IrishWitch58'>IrishWitch58</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>James Bond (Craig movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, MI6 Cafe Occult October Challenge, sp00qy, weird sciency stuff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:42:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,552</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26782357</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrishWitch58/pseuds/IrishWitch58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond returns from a mission to discover that Q branch didn't all get the latest safety memo.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James Bond/Q</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>143</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Sp00qy</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Out of Sight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My second Occult October entry for the prompt Accidental Invisibility.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Polished shoes hitting equally polished tiles sent faint echoes back to the man making his way down the deserted corridors. Just back from a mission, Bond had decided equipment return was better done now, in the early morning hours. Once he had finished here, he could go to his flat and avail himself of a glass of the good scotch and a decent sleep. Had it been a little earlier in the evening, he would have gone round to Q's place. The thought was tempting. Q's comfortable bed with the charming Quartermaster in it was a much nicer option, but he knew his lover's habits quite well by now. He rarely slept during 00 missions but once the mission was over, he desperately needed to catch up on missed sleep. So Bond would wait for their reunion until both of them had a chance to get some rest. </p>
<p>		He buzzed at the security door to Q branch and was immediately on alert. The place was inordinately active for this hour, with at least two shift's worth of techs huddling together in groups, low conversations creating an ambient anxious buzz. It was also horribly warm. Q wouldn't like that. His delicate machines didn't like extremes of temperature. Oddly, the next thing he heard was Q's voice. It was emanating from his central station under the big monitor. “I would suggest going further back than that since the last attempt did bloody nothing.” He sounded pissy, thought Bond. But he wasn't actually standing there. Maybe monitoring from his office then? But the voice didn't have the flat quality one heard from speakers. Bond waved at the woman he knew was one of the senior overnight staff and she hurried over.</p>
<p>		“We're a little busy, 007. May I help you?” She was radiating strain and kept looking over her shoulder.</p>
<p>		“I was just wanting to return my kit. Is there a mission going bad? I thought I was the only one in the field.” He followed her back to the bench at the long side wall and began to pull out his tech, making the Walther safe before laying it down. </p>
<p>		“No. Not a mission precisely. Just an unexpected effect of a trial of something new.” As she spoke, she was ticking off the inventory on the tablet she held and placing each item in a plastic bin for the techs to do any necessary work before they were reissued. </p>
<p>		“Unexpected effect? Massively understated. This is a hugely troubling safety violation.” Q's voice sounded right behind him and Bond turned with a welcoming smile that evaporated instantly. He whipped his head side to side. Q was nowhere to be seen. </p>
<p>		There was a half disgusted, half amused snort from directly in front of him. Bond squinted. A finger that wasn't there poked him in the shoulder. “Didn't your granny tell you not to not to make faces like that? It'll freeze in that state.” </p>
<p>		“I can't see you. Why can't I see you?” Bond reached his own hand out and brushed solid flesh. Very naked solid flesh. </p>
<p>		Q gave a frustrated growl. “We've been trying to design a stealth technology for personal use in the field. The person testing didn't link the door locks to the test button. Basic safety protocol says that test devices must be rigged so that they cannot be activated unless the test chamber door is secured. I walked in to make an adjustment and the button got pushed.” </p>
<p>		Bond thought about that. “So, it worked?”</p>
<p>		“A little too well,” Q retorted. “I've now been invisible for...”</p>
<p>		“Just short of three hours, Boss,” one of the technicians responded.</p>
<p>		Q resumed. “So far nothing we've tried has given any indication of reversal.”</p>
<p>		Bond absorbed that. He ventured another question. “Clothing?”</p>
<p>		“That's a sore point,” Q grumbled. “It didn't affect my clothing and my staff were very distracted by the sight of my clothes wandering about apparently on their own.”</p>
<p>		Bond nodded. “So you took everything off and turned the heat up.”</p>
<p>		Q's voice took on a note of chagrin. “Well, it's not as if anyone can see me and I need my people focused.” He dropped to a hissed whisper. “I can see your face quite adequately. Do not get any ideas about groping me in my department.”</p>
<p>		Q knew him too well, Bond reflected. He couldn't even protest because he had been contemplating exactly that, sneaking his hands over exposed skin in the middle of the department. He could have proved how exactly he knew Q's lithe and eminently attractive body by touch alone. Still, probably not worth the risk of setting off that formidable temper. “I'll just sit over here then, shall I?” He pulled up a chair near where Q normally stood. </p>
<p>		It was still disconcerting to hear Q's disembodied voice rattling out observations and questions. “Yes, I know the prior test showed gradual resolution, but that was a geranium and the resolution period was forty five minutes.” </p>
<p>		“Well we did boost the output, Boss.” The voice was slightly quavering. Bond had a suspicion that the speaker was the button pusher. </p>
<p>		“And I am not a geranium and I was not supposed to be exposed.” </p>
<p>		The back and forth in tech speak went on and on and Bond took in very little of the meaning except that the effort was being directed at backtracking the specific computer code that had been used in the amplified test. He was tired. He knew he was tired, but he also knew his vision was damned near perfect. (Well we weren't going to speak about the little readers he used for the newspaper.) Right now he was focused on Q's voice and that meant looking toward the area where his hearing localized it. And he was seeing something. There was something shadowy between him and the big screen. He quietly rose from his chair and approached until he could tell he was quite close. The lingering scent of Earl Gray was a good clue. He reached out a finger to the indistinct image and touched a familiar tangle of hair. </p>
<p>		“James,” Q whispered in a distinctly warning tone.</p>
<p>		Unwilling to startle anyone, Bond whispered as well. “I think you may want to hunt up your clothes. I can see your hair faintly.” </p>
<p>		There was a sudden patter of amusingly bare feet over the tiles and anti-static mats, followed by the opening and closing of Q's private office door. Bond followed at a more leisurely pace. Q let him in and then locked the door. Bond moved gingerly around where he presumed Q to be and eased onto the battered office sofa that had been a fixture in Q branch, surviving every logistical shift and move.  “Q can you come over close to me? Stand just in front of me.”</p>
<p>		The minute shifts of air would have told him, even if the familiar scents of his lover did not, when Q was in the place requested. Bond made a careful survey from Q's presumed head to his feet and then back up to focus at eye level. “James, for heaven's sake, stop staring at my cock.”</p>
<p>		Bond chuckled. “I am not specifically looking at your cock, as attractive as I have always found it. I am, however, looking at more hair than what is on your head. It would appear that hair is reappearing first.”</p>
<p>		Q made a considering hmm noise and Bond watched the shadowy cloud of dark curls shift. He smiled a bit, visualizing the typical pose when Q considered something, one hand raised to the back of his neck and weight resting on the opposite leg. Q moved to his desk. “That may make some sense. If my clothes were unaffected and hair is technically not living, except at the roots it may have been less affected.”</p>
<p>		“Well it is becoming clearer. You may want to try the mirror.” Bond was beginning to think he could see more areas where he knew Q had body hair. It was actually fascinating.</p>
<p>		Feet padded across the floor and Q's voice came from the vicinity of the small sink. “I believe you're right. Oh, that is disturbing! I can see my contact lenses and my eyebrows but not my eyes.” Bond hadn't noticed the lenses but he was starting to notice more of Q every second. In a sort of movie reverse fade, other parts became visible, fortunately skin seemed to be the next item. Q commented about that as well, muttering something about the outer layers of skin being dead cells anyway. He ignored his still naked state and began to tap at his computer, presumably inputting notes about the process. Realizing that Q was engrossed in the experimental implications, Bond began handing him clothes, one article at a time. Resigned, he retreated to the sofa and allowed himself the simple pleasure of looking. Q was too gorgeous to remain invisible. Of course, Bond could always suggest making love in the dark sometime soon, just to make sure his mental map was accurate. He'd give Q sufficient time to get the data sorted and he'd coax him home to bed. Still, if it was proved the process could be made predictable and safe, he could always suggest a game of naked invisible tag.</p>
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